Opposites Attract
by DistinctVagueness
Summary: An old student returns to Hogwarts...and Severus thought HE'D changed...HGSS
1. Prologue

**Opposites Attract**

**Prologue**

****

Sitting on her bed, which was cluttered with an array of clothes, books and a suitcase, she finished reading the last paragraph of the letter she had read endlessly since receiving it. 

She gently replaced it on her dresser and briefly let her eyes linger on a small silver frame. It contained a picture of two smiling young men who were waving for the camera.

She shook her head unbelievingly. "Return to Hogwarts…" she murmured, "Wont that be something?"

He bit his lip and his eyes screwed up in concentration as he gently tipped the bottle; a droplet of violet liquid slid along the glass neck into the crystal vial he held precariously between two fingers. 

"Professor?" squeaked a high-pitched voice behind him.

The vial slipped from his grasp and smashed into glistening shards on the cold stone beneath.

"Damn!" He whirled to face a house-elf who, clothed in a baggy Chudley Cannons t-shirt, large novelty bowtie and floral tea cosy, looked positively terrified. 

"I apologize, Dobby, but I do wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that."

"Dobby wasn't sneaking, Professor, sir, Dobby was sent." He was adamant that he'd done no such thing.

"By whom?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Dobby has been asked to tell Professor Snape that his presence is required in the staff room, Sir."

Severus heaved another sigh, "I should have remembered. I might as well go now, seeing as to how there's no work for me to do now." He gestured to the mess on the floor and drew his wand from his robes. 

_"Reparo."_

The splinters of glass shot back together, and the vial was as perfect as it had been. He picked it up and placed it on his desk. The house-elf had slipped out of the door. He followed Dobby's path through the door and locked it behind him, stepping into the dungeon's legendary coldness.

"Ah, Severus. Joining us at last, I see." Albus Dumbledore's wide smile and twinkling eyes from behind half-moon shaped spectacles, greeted him from the table as he entered the staff room.

"I apologize for my lateness," Severus replied. "I got...caught up."

"I'm starting to think he has a girl down there," joked Remus Lupin, who sat to the right of Dumbledore. The rest of the staff chuckled gently.

Severus allowed a rare smile to pass over his features. 

"A gentleman never does kiss and tell." 

The coldness and hostility that once existed between Remus and him had disappeared. They weren't necessarily the best of friends, but they were more than civil to each other.

Dumbledore smiled at the pair. "Remus here has something he wishes to tell you all."

Remus nodded and stood up. "First of all, I want to thank all of you for your support since my reinstatement nine years ago. I know that it was a difficult decision to make, considering who I am." He regarded them seriously. "I fear I must tell you now… that I have decided to leave Hogwarts."

The smiling mouths of the faces around the table suddenly turned into little 'O's of surprise. This was obviously an unexpected piece of news.

"You're leaving?" asked Pomona Sprout, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm afraid so."

"But why?" 

Remus nodded. "My family. As you know, my second daughter was born last month."

Fond smiles appeared upon the female staff's faces.

"It's brought me to the conclusion that my position at Hogwarts, no matter how much I love it, does indeed take me away from Nymph and the girls at times."

"How is Tonks at the moment?" interrupted Flitwick.

"She's fine, thanks."

"That is all very well, Remus," spoke Severus, "But are you intending to leave us without a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher so close to September?" 

"Not at all," replied Remus.

Dumbledore had a broad grin on his face. "Remus has found Hogwarts a replacement."

Severus frowned, "Indeed, and who would that be?" Curious expressions from the rest of the staff matched his.

Remus smirked, "It's a surprise, Severus, somebody we haven't seen in a long while. 

"She'll be arriving tomorrow."

Severus pondered over that as he made his way back to his private quarters in the dungeons. He'd have thought being overlooked for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job yet again would have stung more. Surprisingly, it didn't. He found that he was, in fact, quite curious as to the identity of this newcomer.

"_Alohomora,"_ he said softly, pointing his wand at the aged chrome lock in his door. It clicked and he pushed down on the handle to gain entrance to his office. He made his way across the green rug, which was stretched across cold, stone slabs. After pouring a drink from his small bar, he sank down heavily on the comfortable jade-coloured armchair beside it. He took a sip from his drink before absently speaking to himself. 

"A new professor, how…interesting."

Hope you enjoyed this beginning. If you did, press that little button down below. I love my reviewers. And besides, how else am I going to know if you like it? Thank you to my beta Tara (NekoPen).


	2. Her Return

**A/N:** Thank you to all my reviewers, I'm glad you like this new story! I will try to update as much as I can, please bear in mind that I currently have lots of coursework and am engaged with another fic also. (I Don't Want To Be Alone) Please review!

**2nd Post: **I have just reposted this chapter. It has now been beta-d - thanks Tara (Nekopen). Also, if anybody wants to know when I update my stories by e-mail, please e-mail me so I can store your address. No spam, please.

**Civeta, JennyRad, ****Ariana Althena Evergreen, CrazySwimmer27, ShagsTheDustmop, Karen Amora, RebelRikki, EvieBlack, SenshiofTerrah, Ponine5, Leah-IvyWine, Sarah- **thanks so much for your reviews, they made me smile.

**Rosmerta- **Yes, it does seem that there is a little OOC-ness here, lol, but I guess that's the point in this story. The "opposite" thing has a little twist to it than usual. There is also some explanation here. Thanks for taking the time to review.

**The-Rouge-Thorn-** I'm sorry, but I do not think Tonks is married. Intrigued and puzzled by your comment, I searched book V and other sources on the net, but found nothing about this marriage. Perhaps you misread the description of the Black family tree. I briefly thought you were right, but I found I had misread it too. Her father is listed there, though. Even so, if she were married, there was a war and all. It isn't likely there were nil deaths and her husband could have been a victim. Thanks for your review; I appreciate your telling me this.****

**WinterSolstice-** I love your reviews! They mean a lot to me. Thanks.

**1. Her Return**

The sun was just breaching the treetops of the Forbidden Forest as a lone figure made her way up the path leading to Hogwarts. Her long robes gently swept the ground as she walked briskly forwards, taking in the sight of the castle ahead of her.

In one tightly clenched hand, she carried a small, green suitcase, engraved with two initials.

Suddenly, her steps slowed to a halt. Her gaze drifted across the grounds, towards the trickles of light that were dancing across the lake in the distance. She was motionless for a few moments, her eyes transfixed. Then, just as swiftly as she had stopped, she began walking again. Her eyes did not come across a face peering from the tallest tower in the castle.

 A firm resolution came over her face and her mouth was set in an almost concreted line. She ascended the stone steps leading to the castle entrance. Taking a deep breath, but still keeping her focus, she placed one hand on the ornate iron doorknob.

Severus could feel it again. That brief time in which he knew there were precious days left until the rabble of raucous students filled the castle for yet another year. As usual, he spent most of his time alone, gathering his thoughts, preparing. It wasn't often he spent time away from the blissful peace and quiet of the dungeons-but today was an exception. Today, there was something he wanted to see.

The New Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was arriving, and that had piqued his interest. There hadn't been occasion for a new DADA teacher for years, as Lupin had kept the job for the longest time yet. The fact that she was a woman was curious: the last had been Umbridge, which wasn't a pleasant experience for anybody.

His long strides ate up the distance as he traversed the dungeon's narrow corridors. He soon made his way up the stairs that led to the entrance hall, with footsteps echoing into the darkness behind him.

He crossed the silent, empty room. Pausing at the foot of stairs, he considered where he wanted to go. The staff room wasn't an option; anyone there would immediately try to start up a conversation and he wasn't in the mood to exchange idle gossip. There was only one piece of news he was interested in- the identity of the new professor. Just as he climbed the first step, he heard a telltale creak form behind him. He turned to watch as the entrance door open slowly, almost cautiously inwards.

At once, he guessed who this visitor might be. A woman, draped in long robes and carrying a miniature suitcase, entered. She looked back to watch the heavy door slam shut, and turned to face him. Severus stared at her and barely managed to suppress a gasp

It couldn't be. The thin line of a mouth, the tightly pinned back hair...it couldn't possibly be. But it was.

Hermione Granger.

If the girl -woman- before him held any shock at seeing him, she didn't show it. She actually seemed almost scornful of his stunned expression. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Professor Snape. It has been a long time."

"Indeed," was the only word he could muster. It wasn't exactly eloquent, but it seemed to fit with his 'dark and brooding' reputation, so he went with it.

"Could you tell me where-"

"You have arrived at last!" A voice rang out from the top of the staircase. Albus Dumbledore stood smiling down at her.

"Professor Dumbledore," replied Hermione, nodding to him.

"It is lovely to see you, Miss. Granger."

"The same to you, Headmaster, but I believe my title is Professor Granger," she answered smoothly.

Hermione's comment did nothing to diminish the beaming face of the older wizard. In fact, it made him smile even more.

"Come, come," he said gesturing to her. "The others can't wait to see you."

"If you wouldn't mind, Professor, I'd rather take my belongings to my quarters and perhaps get some rest."

Dumbledore frowned slightly but then relaxed into another quick smile. "Very well. I'm sure they will be just as eager to greet you when you've had some sleep."

Severus watched the two, considering whether to leave, until Dumbledore spoke to him.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps you please take Professor Granger to her quarters? It's behind the portrait of Genevieve the Generous."

Severus nodded and began up the stairs. He took a right turn and led Hermione down a long hall. As soon as the Headmaster was out of earshot, she caught up to him.

"You can leave me now. I know full well where Genevieve is, I was just humouring Dumbledore." Her eyes were blank, but purposeful. A strange feeling shot through him.

With that, she swept soundlessly ahead of him, across the thick, red carpet, her robes gathered around her. A surprised Potions Master stared dubiously at her retreating back.

Severus Snape had changed; any fool could see that. He was no longer the greasy, sallow-faced Potions Master she remembered from her years as a student. He did at least have the whole 'dark and brooding' personality thing going on. Remus had told her in his letter to expect a change in him. The war had affected him seriously, he had said, made him realise how fortunate he was. The day Voldemort had died, a large part of Severus had died too. That at the least, was a good thing.

When she arrived at the portrait of Genevieve the Generous, Hermione peered at the frame that guarded the entrance to her rooms. It was just past the stairs that led to Gryffindor Tower. She knew, without a doubt, that Dumbledore had a hand in that. 

"Hello?" she called. The portrait was of a scenic landscape. In the gentle breeze, fields of green grass rippled and the leaves of weeping willows whispered quietly to one another.

Out of the distance, a figure clothed in white made its way through the fields and eventually reached Hermione in her long dress, blonde hair and parasol. The woman in the portrait looked close to Hermione's age, but was painted at least a century before she was born.

She grinned. "Hello there," she said warmly. "I take it you are the new occupant?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, a little stiffly.

"There is no current password for these rooms, you may choose one whenever you wish."

"Thank you. Could I have a look around first?"

"Of course," the portrait swung forward, allowing her entrance. "Feel free to call me Gen, by the way," she called after her. "And don't worry about any gentleman callers you have...I won't say a word." She winked.

Hermione frowned as she went inside. Wasn't that behaviour a little improper for a woman of that time? Those thoughts were quickly knocked out of her head when she saw the room that awaited her.

"Wow, Dumbledore," she whispered, forgetting her previously firm composure. It was beautiful. Her spacious living room was decorated in the Gryffindor trademark colours. Gold trimmed drapes of crimson and tapestries adorned the walls, with gold trimmings. The furniture was carved meticulously from a deep mahogany wood and gleamed as if it had just been polished. There was a comfortable looking chaise lounge and several chintz chairs scattered around. Tall bookcases lined one wall and Hermione's fingers itched to pull out a few of the beautiful volumes displayed there. She restrained her impulses, and instead, crossed to the nearest door to see more of her beautiful new home.

The bedroom was just as magnificent. A huge four-poster bed took up the majority of the room. A dressing table, a chest of drawers and a large wardrobe accented the room as did a painting on the wall above her bed, which displayed a lion pacing back and forth. Hermione stared at the animal for a minute, and then composed herself enough to set her suitcase down neatly on the rug beneath her. Taking out a few hygienic necessities, she left the bedroom and entered the bathroom, which was behind the only unopened door.

Her mouth opened in surprise. It was like the Prefects bathroom, only smaller. Marbled steps led down to the deep bath, which beckoned to her.

Giving into her urge, Hermione locked the door, stripped off her robes and turned on the nearest tap. Hot water gushed from it, and a vapour slowly rose from the rising water. After adding some scented bubbles from another tap, she slowly descended the steps. She noticed a pile of a deep red, fluffy bath towels waiting for her by the side of the bath.

Allowing a rare smile, she sank into the steaming water. Just a contented half hour and she would be ready to put up her defences again. As much as she wanted to let go, she knew from experience that it would come back to her and punish her for forgetting the past, for living freely again.

In a dark laboratory, Severus tried fervently to maintain his concentration, until he realised, it was well and truly shot. His thoughts lingered back to Hermione. He'd never have thought that Lupin would choose her for the job. The years following the deaths of Harry, Ron and many of her other friends, Hermione Granger had disappeared. No one knew where she'd gone and he was sure she'd made certain of that. The much he'd heard of her since her return was that she'd changed. 

Powerful certainly; most knew not to cross her. Many spoke her name in quiet respect, knowing she'd played a large part in the Dark Lord's downfall.

He'd seen many people react to the death of Voldemort in ways that changed their entire outlooks on life. Most were happier and optimistic, but many still had sunk lower than before. Countless innocent wizards and witches had been murdered in cold blood. The message of Voldemort's reign weighed heavily on many shoulders.

Seeing the changes in Hermione Granger had left him wondering. What had she gone through in the past ten years? The cheery optimism that she'd had inside of her had been clearly snuffed out. Her appearance and manner of speaking had been drastically changed for the worst. 

He recognised someone in her. Someone he knew well from years ago.

In Hermione Granger, he saw himself.


	3. Chipping At The Surface

**A/N:** Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far. It means a lot that you used your time to read this. I'm sorry for the long wait, hopefully, updates will be a little more frequent, as I'll have time off from coursework for the next two weeks. * Mental cheer * This chapter has not been beta-d yet, but I am planning to repost it, once it is. Thanks in advance to **Tara.**

If you enjoy this- please review.

**2. Chipping At The Surface**

In the days that followed, Professor Granger occasionally appeared at the staff table for meals and in the staff room, but didn't venture into the other professors' company too much, if it wasn't necessary. When questioned by Professor Dumbledore about this, she simply replied that she felt a little nervous for her first term and she wished to take the time left before the students returned, for extra preparation.

Severus witnessed this little exchange and doubted her reply very much. For one, there was no hint of nerves in her chocolate brown eyes. In fact, her face seemed completely void of emotion at all. Secondly, from what he had observed, she hadn't been carrying out any 'preparation' at all. Frequently, he had seen her walking alone, through the silent halls of the castle, only pausing to gaze desolately out of the tall windows. This was the only time he had ever seen a hint of sentiment in her expression.

Two days after she had arrived, he'd found her in the library, whilst retrieving a book of Wendal Wormwoode's theories on Restoration Draughts. 

Supporting the heavy book under his arm, Severus stopped to study her. She was not reading a book dealing with the subject of DADA, as he would have guessed, but Hogwarts: A History. A rare, tantalizing smile hung about her lips and her eyes perused the pages. A few strands of hair had cunningly slipped from the bun her long tresses had been tamed into.

"Sorry to tear you away, Professor Granger."

The book slammed shut. The smile disappeared. Her slim hand whipped upwards to brush back the hair hastily. The childlike expression of perfect contentment was gone.

"Not at all. What is it?" she replied, sternly, as if the mere suggestion of her focus being hard to reach was insulting. 

"You remember our brief conversation yesterday? About teaching the use of Potions within Defence against the Dark Arts to the sixth and seventh years?"

"Of course."

"What did you think of the lesson plan I gave you?"

"There were a few inaccuracies that could be amended. Also, you may want to replace your quill. Unless those blotches that obscured several of the words were intentional. In which case, I do apologise."

He simply stared at her for a few moments. Even though his frame of mind had become a little more lenient over the past years, he wasn't accustomed to anyone daring to discredit his work.

Taking note of his silence, she sighed, almost jadedly. "If you so wish, we could discuss it further. My quarters perhaps? I would suggest my office, but Remus still has some of his things in there."

Severus frowned. Then he realised it was his chance to try and talk to her about something other than work in a different environment.

"Very well. When do you want to meet?"

"I have an hour to spare on the night before the students return. Perhaps at eight o' clock?"

He thought quickly. "Yes, that would be fine."

She nodded, stiffly. Without another word, she turned and left the library.

He watched her steps as she departed. As she disappeared out of the door, he saw something small slip out of the hefty book.

He went to retrieve it. It was a glossy square of white paper. The side he was looking at, read:

_Christmas 1997, Hermione, Ron and Harry._

He turned the paper over. On the other side, two seventh year wizards were grinning manically. They yelled as a third, a girl this time, threw a handful of snow at them. They threw their arms around each other and waved, smiling happily. They looked the perfect Christmas picture. His eyes fixated on Hermione in the middle of Ron and Harry. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and pure happiness shone in her dark eyes. Tiny flakes of snow settled in her thick, chestnut hair and she pulled the Gryffindor scarf tighter around her neck.

Frowning, Severus tucked he picture into his robes. He failed to notice two teenagers exit the photo, leaving the third standing quite alone.

A few nights later, Hermione sat in her living room, waiting for Severus to arrive. The minute she'd left the library, she'd regretted her invitation immediately. What had she been thinking, inviting Severus Snape to her private quarters?

She didn't like the way he made her feel. Like he _knew _how she felt, knew what she was thinking.

Of course, he arrived on time. She'd told Genevieve to open for him when he came by. Genevieve, of course, had broken into a fit of the giggles and said she was glad that Hermione was making new "friends."

"Professor Granger?"

"Professor Snape." There was an awkward silence for a few moments.

"You can sit down, you know," she said, snappishly. " I haven't got all night."

"Of course. I was simply being polite," he answered, easily. The fact that he didn't seem even merely put out, irritated her.

"I'm sure." Hermione pulled a sheaf of parchment and a few books off one of the many bookshelves. "Let's do this quickly, shall we?"

The next two hours passed swiftly, with the occasional comment and busy pen scratching. When the old, mahogany-coloured clock chimed ten o' clock noisily, Severus looked up in surprise.

"That's gone fast," he commented. With a wry grin, he added, "I guess it's true what they say, then."

"And what's that," she replied, coolly.

"Time flies when you're having fun."

She didn't say anything, but regarded him carefully.

"You've changed."

"I could say the same about you."

"You could, but I don't have the time for idle chatter. The students return tomorrow."

"That doesn't mean we can't have a quick conversation."

"Yes it does."

"Can I ask why?"

She looked at him very intently. For a moment, those unyielding brown eyes showed vulnerability. " Conversations lead to other things. Conversations can lead to trust."

"And that's something you can't risk?" he asked quietly.

"Not again," she whispered, as she turned away. Turning her back on him, she crossed over to the counter upon which her personal book collection from home was scattered.

"I'd appreciate it if you left now."

"Of course."

He walked a few paces towards the portrait but then turned back to place something upon the counter.

"You dropped this in the library."

He watched as she curled one fist around it.

"Oh, and Hermione?"

"Have a good first lesson."

Once the Gryffindor third years settled down with answering a question out of their books, Hermione felt mildly satisfied. Her demonstration with the Boggart had gone well and left most of the students eager for more. She hadn't been over-friendly with them, and made sure they understood the discipline her lessons were going to entail.

Most of them looked rather surprised at the youth of the new DADA teacher, and she was, she supposed, quite young, compared to Remus. She felt much older than she looked, though.

"Oh, come on." Hermione's eyes sharpened as she heard a whisper to the right of the classroom. "Just tell me little bit.

Hermione cleared her throat. The boy who was whispering abruptly focused hard on the book in front of him. The red-haired girl next to him rolled her eyes and very obviously, moved her book out of his sight. This did no good, however, as the blonde girl on her left immediately began copying.

When she was sure that nobody was looking, Hermione displayed a small smile behind her own book. The scene she'd just witnessed had been all too familiar from her days at Hogwarts.

The Slytherin fifth years weren't as easy to tackle. They'd obviously found out she was a past Gryffindor, and that their beloved Potions Master had been passed over once more. She recognised a couple whose parents were spending the rest of their lives in Azkaban, but didn't allow it to cloud her judgement. Not every Slytherin was destined for evil, she reminded herself. Draco Malfoy was a fine example. But Draco was gone.

More than once, they questioned her methods and asked irritating questions which was sure to get her back up. Eventually, she'd had enough, when one particular boy, with the unlucky features of a rodent, made a loud, uncouth comment about her to one of his cronies.

"Stand up, Mr. Grimen." Her voice was ice-cold.

Sniggering, the impolite boy casually got to his feet.

Hermione walked towards his desk. Leaning forward so that her face was merely inches from his own, she looked at him intently. She whispered something to him. The other Slytherins craned their necks to hear but her voice was so long, that only the intended person could hear it.

Ian Grimen stared in horror at her and backed away from the desk, knocking his stool to the floor with a clatter. Still stricken, as though she had seen right into his head, he walked slowly backwards, to the door.

The previously ajar door slammed. The class looked to the teacher in surprise. She'd merely looked to the door and it had acted on command. Grimen's face held more terror.

"H-how did you…" he stuttered and weakly trailed off.

Hermione sat herself down easily behind her desk.

"Sit down, Mr. Grimen."

"I will tell you now that I expect and deserve courteous behaviour in this classroom. I will not stand for disgusting comments or rude behaviour. If you want to know why, ask Mr. Grimen, but I'd suggest taking his reaction as evidence instead."

She paused, gazing around the class. They stared back at her.

"You will find that if you give me the respect and hard work I insist upon, I am incredibly fair and you will get the most out of this class."

"Now get back to work."


	4. Reprimand

**A/N: **Thank you for your kind reviews- and 46 of them to be exact! I didn't expect to get so many already. Sorry for the wait. Please be aware that neither this chapter nor the previous have been beta-d. Having a little trouble at the moment at that, with communication and such. I hope I can amend this soon. For anyone wishing to know, **I Don't Want To Be Alone** Chapter 11 has been written and is being beta-d.

I hope you enjoy this one, and if you do please press the button and review.

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**3.Reprimand**

Shortly after the fifth years had departed the classroom, Hermione gathered up her own books. She had a free lesson and thought she could do a little reading before dinner.

She sighed. So much her recent behaviour had reminded her of her time as a student. Racing to produce more work that was asked, to take in heavy books like much-needed oxygen. To prove her worth.

But she didn't need to do that anymore. Through a couple of awed stares, she'd surmised many students had heard of her. Or more likely, her previous actions and rumoured power. Hermione wished she'd never been there in the first place. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt as much if she hadn't.

Taking quick steps towards the door, Hermione reacted on instincts when she saw a flash of blue in the small window at the centre of it. Somebody was obviously waiting for her outside.

She threw open the door, wand carefully hidden in the folds of her dark robes.

"Hey, easy!" Nymphadora Tonks, sporting wildly spiky, electric blue tresses, threw up her hands to mock defend herself. She grinned. "Wotcher Hermione."

"I apologise. I thought…well, I thought you were someone else."

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Evidently." She shook her head at Hermione. "You shouldn't be so jumpy. What if I was a student?"

Hermione remained silent. Tonks continued.

"Then again, I probably would have fled from the class and never come back, if I'd been that poor lad from Slytherin."

Hermione snorted. "Poor lad, indeed."

Tonks' face turned serious. "You didn't need to do what you did, Hermione. You know that."

"He deserved it."

"No, he didn't. He's just a kid. He didn't need to have that done to him."

Hermione stared down the empty corridor. " A lot of kids have been through things they didn't need to."

When Tonks spoke, her voice became gentler. "That time has passed. I know you still feel it, but why aren't you moving on?"

"I don't feel anything," Hermione replied. "That's the point."

Her blue-haired Auror companion frowned. "I can't say I agree with you, Hermione, but let's not talk about it right now. I want to see your quarters."

"Didn't you see enough of them while you were 'visiting' Remus here?"

A mischievous grin cut loose on the elder witch's face. "That's more like you. And don't be so cheeky!"

Hermione attempted to hide her smirk, but burst into outright laughter as Tonks, turning to lead the way to Gryffindor Tower, knocked into a suit of armour and stumbled helplessly down the stairs.

An hour later, Tonks rose from the comfortable chintz chair in Hermione's living room.

"I'd better be going now, Hermione.  I said I'd meet Remus around this time."

"Where is Remus? And the girls?"

Tonks smiled. "He took Sierra and Helen up to Dumbledore's office. You know how Dumbledore is about little kids and babies."

Hermione merely nodded. "I'll see you soon then."

"I hope so, and Remus would like to see you too," answered Tonks. "Oh, and I'm sorry about breaking that teacup."

"Don't worry about it."

Before leaving, Tonks gave her a long, hard look. Hermione turned away and busied herself with clearing the tea tray off the table. She knew exactly what the Auror was looking for.

"Finally, peace and quiet!" exclaimed Tonks.

Remus laughed, before settling down with his wife on the sofa, passing her a glass of wine.

"Is Sierra finally asleep?"

"Yes, for the second time. The first time I put her in the cot, Helen started dancing around me, asking for bedtime stories and woke her up."

"It seems like only yesterday we were first putting Sierra in her new cot after bringing her back from hospital."

Tonks smiled fondly, and let out a small sigh as Remus slipped an easy arm around her. "If anyone had told you about us being together six years ago, would you have believed them?"

"The only thing I wouldn't have believed is that you would have wanted to be with me." He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Did you talk to Hermione today?"

The smile slipped from her face.

"Yes."

"Nymph?"

"She…she's not changed, Remus. She's still acting so…so closed off, cold. I thought, by now, she would be herself again."

Remus studied his wife closely. "There's more to it than that."

Tonks sighed heavily. "I observed her class with some Slytherins from outside today."

"And?" he questioned.

"One of the boys made a rather…obscene comment about her."

Remus grimaced. "I remember that. A first day with a Slytherin class is never a picnic."

"Slytherins don't always fit the stereotype, Remus," she gently admonished. She stared into space for a moment, as if contemplating something. "At least, some don't."

Remus apologised and carried on the conversation. "I imagine she didn't deal with it too well."

Tonks shook her head. "That's an understatement. Remus, she used a form of Legilimency on him."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "She read his mind?"

"Not…exactly. She…twisted it slightly."

"Twisted it how?"

"Legilimency can be used to extract thoughts and feelings from somebody's unguarded mind, but she used it to implant emotions and memories temporarily."

Remus frowned. "Why would she…" Then he realised. "Hermione must have a lot of painful memories."

She nodded. "Painful isn't the word, and the emotions that went with it must have scared him to death."

"What did he do?"

"Tried to make a run for it, obviously. Poor kid, looked paralysed. He won't be cheeking her for a while, and nor will his classmates."

"What else did she do?"

"Performed wandless magic," answered Tonks.

"What?!" asked Remus, looking alarmed.

"Oh, only to slam the door. Gave the thicker-skinned half of the class a good fright, though."

"Hermione can perform wandless magic now?" said Remus slowly.

"And a good deal more, I would think," replied Tonks. "I wouldn't like to cross her."

Hermione was just settling down after dinner, when Genevieve slipped into the landscape painting hanging over the fireplace. She looked up, waiting for what it was the woman wanted.

"Yes?"

Genevieve gave a nervous giggle. "Dumbledore is outside, miss," she answered. "He wishes to speak to you. Shall I allow him in?"

In surprise, Hermione stood, up, checking to make sure that the room looked tidy.

"Yes, please do."

In response, Genevieve stepped sideways out of the frame and shortly after, the portrait outside swung open. The wizened Headmaster stepped carefully through.

Quietly he studied the room for a moment, taking it in. Then he spoke to her.

"How do you find Godric's old rooms, then, Professor Granger?"

Hermione gaped, momentarily forgetting her composure. "Godric? As in…Godric Gryffindor?"

The Headmaster nodded, smiling. "Have you ever noticed the painting of a lion in your bedroom? Chosen by him, you know. Gave him the idea for the House's trademark."

Hermione didn't quite know what to say. In the presence of the Headmaster, words did not come quite so easily. "Why would you give me his room? I'm just a teacher, not even Head of House. I would have imagined that Professor McGonagall would have taken these rooms."

"Minerva prefers to be higher up the tower…close enough to stop the students from getting themselves into trouble before it happens. As for you taking the room, my dear, I hoped it might help raise your morale a little."

His face grew darker and he looked at her intently. "Although, it seems that my plan does not appear to be working."

She stared back at him, innocently. "What do you mean?"

"I know what you did this afternoon in one of your Slytherin classes." His gaze was no longer friendly, it was probing, stern. Hermione didn't trust herself to speak.

"Legilimency is _not _for that purpose, Hermione. I fail to understand your motivation for doing what you did."

She forced herself an answer. "He deserved a punishment. I gave him one."

Dumbledore's voice was sharper. "If he deserves punishment, for Merlin's sake give him detention, or a deduction of house points. I will ask you not to implant such emotions in a child's head!"

Hermione had to back down. Dumbledore looked rather angry, which was never a good sign.

"I'm sorry," she said meekly. "I just…"

His face was softer. " I know why you did it, I just don't think your previous self would have gone to such drastic measures to achieve closure."

Hermione's face became stronger and expressionless. "I do not consider it closure. Nothing ever is." 

Dumbledore attempted to comfort her by laying a gentle hand upon her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "It won't happen again." With that said, she walked quickly across her living room to the bedroom door. "Goodnight Headmaster."

When Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the portrait hole, it was with a sombre face. He spoke to the man standing outside.

"Perhaps it is your turn to try?" he asked of him with a sad sigh.


	5. Letting Go

**A/N:** Wow, thank you for the reviews. I'm really surprised at how many I've got for this one. I'm sorry if you thought the last was OOC for Dumbledore- the point was, it was his attempt at trying to tap into her- an OOC type of behaviour shown by him- he was trying to show her how serious it was. I hope you like this one- quite a quick turn on events here. Please review if you do.

**4. Letting Go**

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Sitting cross-legged on her bed, dressed in baggy, scarlet pyjamas, her long brown hair hanging free down her back, Hermione hugged a pillow to herself. She pulled it tighter, hoping to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. She truly hated herself for letting her safety net slip for a moment. How could she have done that to the boy? No matter what she had said, they were all right- she had no right to do that. She considered pulling the suitcase out from under her bed and throwing all her belongings back inside and running away from the castle that very night.

No, Hermione told herself. Not now. She'd promised herself not to break, not to escape when she felt the familiar fears come upon her again. She could take it. Stay strong until she could close it all out permanently. Somehow, sadly, she'd convinced herself that is was truly the best answer.

Hermione was startled when a gentle tapping came on her bedroom door. Hastily blinking away evidence of tears, she forgot her appearance completely.

Severus felt a strange rush inside as the door was pulled open and she appeared. There was silence for a few seconds as he regarded her in her true form.

A beautiful face, framed with shining locks of chestnut hair was turned towards his. There was no barrier between them for a single sweet moment. He knew it was truly Hermione Granger looking back at him.

Suddenly, breaking the bond forged temporarily between them, she pulled the pyjamas tighter around her.

"How did you get in without my permission?"

"Genevieve allowed me the honour," he replied. "She recognised me."

"That is still no reason for her to let you in! I must instruct her not to do so in future."

"You don't need to raise your voice. I thought perhaps I might have interrupted your sleep if I asked her to come in and check. If you didn't open your door to me, I would have left."

Hermione glared at him in fury. Severus stifled a smile, remembering how the Gryffindor once had been too timid to dare talk to him. "You should know better than to call on anybody like this! And knocking on my bedroom door!"

"I apologise," he said slowly. "But I'm not entirely sure whether that's what you are yelling at me for."

"I'm not yelling!" Hermione suddenly realised that she was actually shouting at him. She strode past angrily him.

"Please go," she said in a lower tone, gesturing to the portrait hole."

"No."

Hermione paused and looked at him, perhaps wondering whether she had misheard him.

"Excuse me?"

"I've had enough of your refusal to open up to anyone and you obviously aren't going to do it willingly."

"How dare you!" Hermione was incensed. "I have nothing to say to you!"

In comparison to her steadily growing red face, his was calm. As a further irritation, he sank into one of the chairs in the living room rather casually and studied her.

"Funny," he remarked. "I gave you a little push and you're already cracking."

It was Hermione's turn to look back at him. She laughed. "You think that you, of all people, can push me?"

"Yes," he replied. He stood up and crossed over to where she was standing. "I do."

Tilting her head, Hermione said. "I've guessed by now that you've been informed of a little incident in one of my classes. Tell me…Severus…do you truly want to find out what happens when you push me?"

"It does intrigue me."

Her eyes flashed. "Don't be ridiculous. You don't know the extent of my power."

"I know you can't control it."

Hermione hesitated, if only for a fraction of a second. She could feel her emotions rising and fought to keep a hold on them. "I have control. Only you are testing it."

"Prove it."

"Don't force me too."

Dark eyes stared into each other. "I want to."

Severus's hands were on her shoulders and he leaned closer towards her.

Restraining herself no longer, she let go of the emotions stirring within her. 

Severus went flying across the room, smashing into one of the bookshelves with a heavy thud.

Hermione gasped in shock, one hand covering her mouth, as he slowly got to his feet, his face serious.

"You're powerful, Hermione. But you shouldn't be in that way."

"You made me angry…I told you, you shouldn't push me…"

He made his way back to her, rubbing his elbow where he could feel a bruise beginning to develop. "Don't lie to me, Hermione. That wasn't anger. It was sadness."

"You can't keep this locked up, Hermione. It'll kill you from the inside and you know it."

No argument in her brown eyes, Hermione slowly slumped to the ground. When she finally looked up at him, a lone tear slid down her cheek. He knelt down beside her, and reached out a hand. She flinched at first but allowed him to gently wipe it away.

Severus watched as more followed, reddening her eyes and cheeks, making her look more like the girl he'd remembered, as she left the scene of the final war, her loved ones strewn amongst the other bodies.

"Tell me?" he asked softly.

Resigning herself, she answered," What do you want to know?"

"Anything you want to tell me."

She swallowed, and after wiping her face with one of her hands, she began to speak in a sad tone.

"I couldn't go back. Not after Ro…not after they were killed," she shook her head. 

"I thought I still had Harry. Voldemort was dead; the prophecy told us that he would live. He was weak, but he was going to live. I knew it. He…was leaning on me…we were going back to Hogwarts. I was crying about Ron, but he kept saying that he would have wanted us to make it back. We thought we were safe…then she appeared."

"Who?" he interrupted gently.

"LeStrange," she looked bitter. "We should have known. She hadn't appeared all night." She looked to Severus. "Harry just looked at me for a second. He knew. His wand was gone and it would have been too late for me to use mine." In a harsher voice, she added. "At least I killed her for what she took away from me."

A sob choked her. "I thought I could stand it here, be able to protect myself. I've barely been here a few weeks and already you've broken me."

"It hurts so much," she whispered. "Harry and Ron are gone, my parents, the Weasleys…"

"Everybody's gone from me."

She stared at him with glistening eyes. "Would you leave me?"

No expecting an answer to the question, she drooped her head down again, only to have it gently pulled up to face his once more.

She shivered as he leant towards her and kissed her forehead softly, her wet eyelids and her tear-stained cheeks.

"I'm here now," he said before kissing her gently on the lips and slowly standing up. "That's what counts."

Not looking back at her, he exited the room through the portrait hole and left her sitting on the floor, her tears stilled by pure amazement.


	6. Transformations and Whispers

**A/N:** Your lovely words inspired me to get down to work on the final chapter immediately. This concludes Opposites Attract and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks you to everybody who reviewed it and I hope that if you liked it, you will have a look-see at my other stories, I Don't Want To Be Alone, Written in the Stars and My Lover's Gone. Please review if you enjoy this final chapter. Oh, and "chingling?" My word. *Smiles* I think it's pretty obvious what it means.

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**5. Transformations and Whispers**

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Needless to say, Hermione left her quarters the next morning in a dazed manner. Her thoughts still dwelling on the night before, she'd half-heartedly pulled up her hair in a loose ponytail rather than the tight bun she'd previously had, and subconsciously Transfigured her black garments into flowing robes of pale blue.

The whispers started the second she'd entered the Great Hall. She caught snatches of "Slytherin class…Grimen…fifth year…bloody terrified…that's her…"

Students from all four-house tables turned to look at her, but they were even more astonished at her change of appearance. No more was the pale Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, with the tightly pinned back hair, the cold expression and the distinct feeling that an icy draught had just entered the room.

Instead, was a young woman with a relaxed face, perhaps even dream-like. There was even a tinge of warm colour in her pale cheeks. She strolled through the gap between tables, paying no heed to the whispers.

Even the teachers looked up from their breakfast and chatter to see the changed woman ascend the steps to the High Table. Only Albus Dumbledore held a smile as she chose the empty chair next to Severus, all the others had curious frowns and equally bemused expressions painted on their faces.

Severus noticed her even before she walked into the room. The prickly warmth had crawled up his body the moment he had sat down at the table, in eager anticipation. Had his plan worked? Had he drained her of her sorrows, so that she could build herself up again? Only time would tell.

But apparently Time did not have to wait very long. The woman who had just come into the Great Hall had transformed. The restraint he'd felt the night before, to simply leave with a single first kiss came back to him now. He grimaced as he curled his hands into fists around his knife and fork. How dearly would he love them to curl around the woman on his right? Dangerously, was the answer. He feared he shouldn't have kissed her. Perhaps it had been going too far. Quickly he decided to curb his advances, should it send her spinning back into the person she was before this morning.

"Something wrong?" she asked, smiling sweetly at his grimace.

He simply shook his head and murmured a "no" into his scrambled eggs.

Hermione studied him intently for a moment, perhaps a little put out, but said nothing. Why was he so silent? Had she been wrong in thinking the kiss meant more? Sadly, she considered that there had been no fire kindled on the other side.

There was one way to find out. Regretfully, she decided to hold it back till later. She had not changed enough to submit herself to a public show of affection…yet.

Instead she turned to her right and began chatting to a surprised Flitwick.

"Eight feet of parchment on the properties of Wolfsbane," called Severus after his final class of the day, the seventh year Ravenclaws. There was a collective groan. "For tomorrow!" 

Severus began to clear away the equipment, and scowled at the charred remains of an unidentified orange substance stuck to the bottom of a cauldron. The class filed out, but he heard a single pair of footsteps returning to him.

"The answer, is no. I will not be giving you any extra time for the essay. Just be glad I am not setting you the extra eight feet I would have previously assigned for my N.E.W.T students."

"When did I ever require an extension on an assignment, Professor?" came a slightly offended, slightly sly voice. Her voice.

He spun round. "Professor Granger."

She looked at him pointedly. "You called me Hermione last night."

"You didn't call me by my title either."

She grinned but he didn't return the sentiment, no matter how infectious it was. He simply nodded.

Hermione sighed. "I rather thought I'd be the one speaking so stiffly."

"Anyway, I just came to say thank you…for what you did for me."

"Had Dumbledore pursued it, he would have succeeded in taking some sense into, I'm sure. It was nothing."

In a carefully calculated move, she slowly pushed some hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ears. Smirking inwardly, she pulled out the bobble that was holding her coffee-coloured hair together and let it slip casually down her back.

"I wasn't just talking about what you _said," _she replied. She stepped closer to him.

Severus had to admit it; the sickeningly sweet feeling of his pulse racing and the chingling sensation tiptoeing up his spine was ruling him in that moment. As she came closer, he felt himself lowering his head to meet her halfway.

When her lips met his, she was caught up in a flurry of ecstatic dizziness. The rest of the world seemed to fade away as she melted into his embrace. Soon, the kiss deepened and he enveloped her fully into his arms, her fingers running through his hair, sending a tingle into his scalp. She opened her mouth a little wider to allow him entrance, and quickly she found his tongue willingly dancing against her own. 

When they at last pulled away from each other, he felt the loss of her body nestled perfectly against his own terribly.

Smiling at him, she said, "I wonder what Ron or Harry would say if they could see us now?"

Not overly pleased at the mention of them at the moment in time, he tried to joke. "I'd imagine they'd be appalled at the sight of their innocent Hermione in such a position with their hated Potions Master."

Hermione shook her head. "I think they would approve," she said a happy glow in her features.

"And I'm not that innocent," she finished before ebony eyes met chocolate and she lifted her chin to meet his lips. She sighed in his arms. The fire was truly burning on both sides, she realised before surrendering herself completely to him. There was still pain, she knew, but it wouldn't be long until she was happier than she'd been in a long time.

Unnoticed by them, in the middle of their clinch, one of the seventh years came back to take it upon himself to dare ask for an extension on his essay. Staring in amazement, and partial horror at the couple, he backed out of the room.

There would be more whispers in the Great Hall that evening.

Finis 

By DistinctVagueness


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